


Trouble Sleeping

by WonderstruckSwan



Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Doctor missing his lil Scot, Doctor's POV, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 12:06:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1346848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WonderstruckSwan/pseuds/WonderstruckSwan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor is too busy missing Jamie to sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trouble Sleeping

I never sleep, not any more. I watch Clara go up to her bedroom and the door slams shut behind her. Believe me, I've tried. I sleep in short bursts, but I always wake up.The hardest part is when I do wake up, and I expect to see him next to me. My Jamie. His soft face on the pillow next to mine, I'd listen to his even breaths, wind a lock of dark hair around my finger, run my hand gently up and down his forearm. When he'd wake up, he'd give me his soft smile, his half open eyes would look up at me. 'Morning,' he'd murmur in his Scot accent that I adore, before nuzzling into my chest, kissing my cheek, ruffling my hair.

I've missed that.

This new body isn't helping; the Scottish voice reminds me everyday of James Robert McCrimmon.

As I walk around the console, I can almost feel him next to me. His hands would reach forward and push mine away, thinking he could do better than me. I smile fondly at that memory.

'Doctor, you know ya can't fly this beastie!' I look up, but it's just an echo. He's not really here. I know better than to think that.

I know it's a trick of the light, but when I look at the console, I swear I can see Jamie next to me. My hand reaches out to grab his, but all I can grab is thin air. The past is past, and he is gone.

I walk around the console room some more, before leaving to wander the corridors, taking my memory of him with me and trying, most likely failing, to sleep.

Honestly, I'm not really trying any more.


End file.
